Searching for Signs of Progress in Haiti
A year after an earthquake devastated Haiti, the country is still in disastrous shape. Billions in aid seem to have only made the country a long-term patient of international donors and reconstruction has yet to begin in earnest. Much hope is riding on the coming election.
The sidewalks of Pétionville used to be Officer Jean Calas' pride and joy -- a last bit of order in a life that was drowning in chaos even then. The rules for the sidewalks were clear, he says: They were for pedestrians and nothing else. People respected those rules -- and they respected him. That, though, was before the earthquake.
Calas turns onto Rue Lambert, a street once lined with exclusive shops, a street he describes as Port-au-Prince's Fifth Avenue. Now the sidewalks are full of street vendors catering to the poor, who lost not only their houses but also their markets to the quake with entire slums disappearing under the rubble. The destruction has driven them into the city's wealthier quarter. So now they're here, in Pétionville's open spaces -- in front of the police station, in Parc Sainte Thérèse and on Rue Lambert.
Calas reaches for his whistle. His chest displays his badge number, 00708, and four gold stripes on his shoulder indicate his rank. Now 42, Calas had envisioned more for himself. He would prefer to be "Monsieur l'Inspecteur" rather than a beat cop, especially given all the new problems police officers in Haiti face.
There is more theft and kidnapping now because many Haitians believe that donations from the United States and Europe have made a few locals into millionaires, and that these people are living in Pétionville's villas. There are also more instances of rape, with armed and masked men attacking women and girls in the overcrowded tent camps at night....
Read entire article at Spiegel Online
The sidewalks of Pétionville used to be Officer Jean Calas' pride and joy -- a last bit of order in a life that was drowning in chaos even then. The rules for the sidewalks were clear, he says: They were for pedestrians and nothing else. People respected those rules -- and they respected him. That, though, was before the earthquake.
Calas turns onto Rue Lambert, a street once lined with exclusive shops, a street he describes as Port-au-Prince's Fifth Avenue. Now the sidewalks are full of street vendors catering to the poor, who lost not only their houses but also their markets to the quake with entire slums disappearing under the rubble. The destruction has driven them into the city's wealthier quarter. So now they're here, in Pétionville's open spaces -- in front of the police station, in Parc Sainte Thérèse and on Rue Lambert.
Calas reaches for his whistle. His chest displays his badge number, 00708, and four gold stripes on his shoulder indicate his rank. Now 42, Calas had envisioned more for himself. He would prefer to be "Monsieur l'Inspecteur" rather than a beat cop, especially given all the new problems police officers in Haiti face.
There is more theft and kidnapping now because many Haitians believe that donations from the United States and Europe have made a few locals into millionaires, and that these people are living in Pétionville's villas. There are also more instances of rape, with armed and masked men attacking women and girls in the overcrowded tent camps at night....